


head down 'til the work is done, but it gets hard to stand

by star_bunny



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Endgame Fix-It, M/M, No explicit romance it’s barely there, Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 04:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18613378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_bunny/pseuds/star_bunny
Summary: Steve always gets back up. Until he doesn’t.





	head down 'til the work is done, but it gets hard to stand

Steve gets back up. He takes one blow, and another, and he falls, once, twice, but he gets back up anyway, despite how much he _aches_ , not just deep in his bones but deep in his soul, too. He always gets back up.

He can’t see anybody else nearby, lost sight of Thor when Thanos beat him into the rubble, has heard nothing from Scott or Clint or the others. Doesn’t know if they’re alive, doesn’t know if they’re dead, but it doesn’t matter, because all he has to do is keep on fighting for everyone who can’t. He couldn’t beat Thanos with the gauntlet, and Steve isn’t sure if he can beat him without, barely holding up against the razor edge of the titan’s blade as he brings it down on his shield again and again and again until his knees buckle and collapse under the force of the impacts, but it doesn’t matter. He stands back up. He rises slowly, shakily, but he rises, and steels himself for the fight to come as Thanos stares him down evenly, an uncountable army emerging around him. Legions of Outriders and swarms of Chitauri tear across the broken ground towards him; Steve blinks and at once he is in New York, at once in Wakanda, fighting and winning and fighting and losing, losing the battle, losing love. He tastes ashes in his mouth.

He thinks he hears Sam’s voice. Sam, who turned to dust alone, with no one to bear witness. Sam, whose name Steve called over and over as he tore through the Wakandan jungle searching for him, afraid to find him - afraid to _not_ find him - and crying out his name like a desperate prayer until his voice grew hoarse. Sam, who gave up so much for Steve and in the end, Steve couldn’t save him. Until today.

Steve tries to shake off the memory but the voice comes again, louder and clearer and without a vein of static, until finally - _‘On your left’_. And God if it doesn’t take everything in Steve not to turn and run towards Sam. But there’ll be time for that later. Now, there is a war to wage.

 

*

The first thing Bucky sees through the portal is dust and ash curling through the air, the bright blue Wakandan sky above him becoming the smoky greyness of a battlefield, dark with the history of what has gone before and the promise of what is to come.

The second thing he sees is Steve. Steve, standing alone against Thanos and a whole army. Steve, who Bucky hasn’t seen in five hours, but who hasn’t seen Bucky in five years. He wants to run to Steve and throw his arms around Steve’s bloody ones, wants to cry and wants to laugh at Steve and call him a stupid punk for thinking he could take on Thanos and his entire army alone. He wants to tell Steve that he isn’t alone, not anymore. But there’ll be time for that later.

*

For the first time since Thanos rained fire down upon them all and churned up the ground with craters deeper than he ever saw in the war, Steve feels hope. _Bucky_ is back, _Sam_ is back, everyone once lost has been found and they are all here together, fighting their last stand against Thanos’ ceaseless inevitability. The fight is messy and bloody and too fast to take stock; Steve throws shield and hammer and trades blows with anyone who comes close, taking the briefest of seconds to determine whether it’s friend or foe. His eyes catch flashes of red wings overhead and light flashes of magic glancing off metal, and though Steve can’t risk the time it takes to turn his head and seek them out he knows Sam and Bucky are nearby, can feel them with him in a way he can’t use words to explain. But right now that’s enough.

*

His lungs are burning and his shattered ribs pierce within like swallowed knives, his vision slightly blurred with the sting of sweat and blood, but Steve leans on his shattered shield and draws on all he has left to get back up as Thanos knocks away first Tony, then Thor and then, even Carol. He reaches back with a grimace and hurls his fragment of a shield before him, aiming for Thanos but the broken shield curves unpredictably into the gauntlet, knocking the cursed prize out of Thanos’ immediate reach.

Steve runs and dives to the ground, falling harshly amongst rubble that slices through his uniform and into flesh, but his hands close around the gauntlet, desperately pulling it close. He hears Thanos close behind him and for a moment Steve is gripped in a panic he has never felt so intensely before. _He doesn’t know what to do_.

He spares precious seconds to lie there and drown in the sights and the sounds of the chaos of battle, and he thinks about what he does know, which is only three things - that he cannot overpower Thanos. That he cannot get the gauntlet away from him. That he cannot lose Bucky again, cannot lose Sam again.

And then, Steve knows what he has to do. He twists out of Thanos’ grasp as the titan closes in on him, jumping to his weary feet with a new rush of desperate energy. Steve slips on the gauntlet, and he snaps his fingers.

*

For a brief moment, Bucky is entirely blinded by a flash of white light that spills across the battlefield. The light fades as quickly as it came, and Bucky turns to once again face the Outriders he was just losing ground against and sees nothing but empty space and dust on the breeze. He turns again, and sees Steve fall to his knees besides Thanos, and Bucky runs.

*

Steve expected it to burn. A practical part of his mind informs him the gauntlet - and he along with it - is burning white hot, that he can smell the singe of skin and metal, but all he feels is the cold. It’s always the cold. It ripped through him with the snap of his fingers and took all his last reserves of strength with it. The ground is hard beneath him as he plunges to his feet, the white light that had burned across his vision a moment before now being replaced with an encroaching blackness slowly stealing away the edges of his sight. He doesn’t see Thanos turn to dust. But he does see Bucky, Bucky running towards him and shouting his name in a fervent litany that Steve can’t quite hear over the ringing in his ears and the fuzz in his head, but he and Bucky never did need words to communicate. A gentle, fleeting glance, a barely-there brush of fingertips is all that has ever been needed.

Bucky is almost there now, and he goes to drop his gun so both hands are free to tend to Steve but he realises he already let go without being aware. He wasn’t aware of anything now except Steve. He falls to his knees besides him and drags the gauntlet off of Steve’s arm and casts it aside, a whisper flicking through his mind that it’s too late anyway.

‘Steve. _Stevie_. Look at me, please,’ Bucky pleads, grasping Steve’s face lightly in his hands, both flesh and metal, and tilting his head with a delicate reverence so their eyes met. ‘Stay with me.’

Steve’s breath is a rasp, and suddenly he feels ten years old again on the brink of an asthma attack, and though the malady is different his plea is the same: ‘Buck…’.

‘I’m here Steve, I’m right here. Just stay with me okay, just hold on a little longer.’ Bucky turns away with eyes desperately seeking out help from those nearest to him, so he doesn’t see the way Steve’s chest rises with hitched, panicked breaths as he struggles to drag in air. He doesn’t see that Steve is afraid, but he knows it anyway. Because he is afraid too.

No help is immediately forthcoming - he sees Thor and Clint and Wanda and more all standing there staring with despairing resignation, and a flash of anger courses through him because they’re not even _trying_ to help, they’re all acting like there’s nothing they can do but it’s _not_ too late, it’s _not_ -

‘Bucky.’ Steve’s fingers clutch at Bucky’s metal hand, forcing Bucky’s attention back on him. ‘I’m sorry.’

Despite it all, Bucky laughs, but the sound is ragged and ripped from his chest. ‘About what, Steve? What could you possibly need my forgiveness for?’

‘A broken promise,’ Steve says on a sigh as Bucky pulls him close against him, half on his lap, with Steve’s head resting heavily against Bucky’s chest, Steve’s eyes raised heavenward into Bucky’s. ‘I promised I’d be with you - til the end of the line..’

And that is what makes Bucky finally cry. An anguished sob bursts from his lungs that is antithetical to the brief sunrise of a grin across his face. ‘You didn’t break your promise, Stevie,’ Bucky murmurs as he gently removes Steve’s helmet and casts it aside so that he can see all of Steve’s face, so that none of the beauty nor bruises is hidden away. ‘You brought me back, didn’t you - you saved me. You saved us all.’ He brushes a stray strand of hair out of Steve’s eyes with a tenderness he didn’t use to think his metal weapon of a hand could ever be capable of - didn’t think it could be used to love rather than kill. He knows better now though, thanks to Steve and Sam, but also mostly thanks to himself.

It is then that Sam lands roughly a few feet away, tearing off his flight goggles and throwing them aside as he closes the short distance between them, but when he drops to his knees besides his friends - his _family_ \- he sees the faraway look starting to cloud Steve’s eyes, and Sam knows he can’t reach him, no matter how close he gets.

‘Hey man, I’m here,’ Sam chokes out as he takes one of Steve’s hands and cradles it against his chest, willing himself not to cry now. There will be time for that later. ‘On your left,’ he adds, as Steve doesn’t seem to hear at first.

Steve drags his eyes to Sam and smiles softly and warmly, his shaking fingers gesturing weakly to his shattered shield. ‘I wanted you to have it. After.’ He breathes deeply, though his breath is still too shallow. ‘Maybe it can be fixed.’

Sam doesn’t spare a glance to look at the shield. He can’t tear his eyes away from Steve’s face, doesn’t want to waste these precious seconds. ‘It’s yours, Steve. It wasn’t made for me.’

Steve looks a Sam with a last moment of clarity. ‘Yes it was.’

Sam cries.

*

Cradled safely between Sam and Bucky, Steve falls heavily against them.

He doesn’t get back up.

**Author's Note:**

> i just needed to get this out of my system after seeing endgame because i really truly hated steve’s ending. imo reversing steve and tony’s endings would have been more fitting for their characters - tony, who could never let go of iron man, actually let go and retire with his family, and steve, who could never stand by on the sidelines while innocent people die, sacrifice himself to save everyone instead of disappearing to the past and doing nothing to help bucky/stop hydra/prevent any world tragedies i guess?
> 
> anyway i’ll stop the ranting here. find me on tumblr @stteverogers if you want to vent with me
> 
> title from fleurie’s soldier which is a very steve song


End file.
